ParentLock
by SherlockingInTheTardis
Summary: **This is my story, It was originally on my other account which I forgot my login to. THIS IS NOT STOLEN, It's all mine!** Sherlock is left to babysit baby Mary when John finally goes back to work after spending five months off in depression from his wifes death. Will Sherlock cope, or will everything go terribly wrong?
1. Moriarty's Revenge

John walked into the living room, cradling Mary in his arms. Sherlock was sat in his arm-chair, reading the Guardian newspaper.

"Right, Sherlock, I'm off to work, do you remember everything you need to do?"

"Yes, John. Do you take me for some kind of Idiot?"

"Most of the time, no, but when it comes to children, you aren't exactly an ideal babysitter. In fact, you aren't exactly an ideal parent."

Sherlock placed down his newspaper and stood up.

"Just hand her to me."

John hesitated for a moment, but then eventually passed Mary carefully to Sherlock placing a kiss on Mary's forehead.

"Maybe I should just hire a trained babysitter..."

"Don't be so idiotic John, no babysitter is trained, they're just pathetic little teenagers who need money for alcohol and cigarettes. Speaking of cigarettes, where are mine?"

"No cigarettes whilst Mary's in the house."

Sherlock had no reply to this, he just rolled his eyes and sat back down in his arm-chair with Mary on his lap, her little hands fiddling with his dressing gown tie.

John waited a few seconds before saying goodbye to Sherlock and walking out of the door, leaving it open as it mostly always was. As soon as John left, Sherlock left a soft sigh escape from his lips, dropping his head backwards.

"So, Mary, what should we do?" Sherlock said as he looked back down at Mary's little eyes.

"You can't talk yet, how stupid of me." Sherlock stood up, still holding Mary tightly in his arms. He looked at the clock and realised that John had only been gone three minutes. What was he going to do with so much time, alone? He walked over to Mary's playpen and placed Mary down gently inside. He straightened up and walked over to his phone. He picked it up hastily and dialled a familiar number. He knew exactly what he was going to do.

"Hello, brother. How about you come over for a little, play-date?"

Sherlock had waited half an hour for Mycroft to turn up. When he finally did, he nearly jumped out of his seat with relief, but he didn't, obviously. That would be inappropriate. He stood up from his arm-chair with a swish of his dressing gown.

"Ah, Mycroft, you're finally here."

"I never miss a 'play-date' with you, Sherlock. I've been told you get particularly overwhelmed for Cluedo, am I correct?"

"That game is inaccurate."

"So, what did you have in mind?"

Sherlock grinned.

"Operation, again?" Mycroft raised an eyebrow and sat back in his chair..

"I find this game is both entertaining and factual."

"How on earth is this game factual?"

"It's your move."

Mycroft made his moved and the game made a loud buzz.

"We need new games to play at these little play-dates of ours."

Sherlock glanced over at the clock.

"Oh, is that the time? I need to feed Mary her milk."

"John's left you to care for the poor child?"

Sherlock raised from his seat and walked over to the play-pen.

"I don't know what you are trying to imply, but I have a feeling it was meant as an insult."

Sherlock looked down into the play-pen.

"Come on, Mary, time for your-"

Alarmed, Mycroft raised from his seat and walked over to the play-pen.

"What is the matter, Sherlock?"

Mycroft now looked down at the play-pen.

"Mycroft, grab my phone, ring John, tell him to come home, NOW!"

Sherlock bent over and reached into the empty play-pen and picked up the note that was left in Mary's place. The note read:

_**HUSH LITTLE BABY DON'T YOU CRY, DADDY JOHN IS ALWAYS READY TO SAVE YOUR LIFE. **_

_**HUSH LITTLE BABY, JUST STAY HERE, MAMA MARY'S GONNA HOLD YOU SWEET AND DEAR. **_

_**QUIET LITTLE BABY JUST STAY STILL, SHERLOCK REALLY LOVES YOU AND ALWAYS WILL. **_

_**HUSH LITTLE BABY DON'T MAKE A SOUND, UNCLE MORIARTY'S GOT YOU NOW.**_

_**Come and play, Tower hill, just like old times.**_

_**Jim Moriarty x**_


	2. Game On

Sherlock was pacing up and down, rubbing his forehead in stress. Mycroft had gone to get some of his men to search around London for baby Mary. How could this have happened? Surely they would've heard someone come in. Sherlock had observed every single inch of his apartment for any slight disturbance in the dust or anything that had been moved or broken or even cracked, and there was nothing. He'd been waiting for John to get home, knowing that John would probably murder him as soon as he walked through the door. John eventually stormed in.

"Sherlock, how could you let this happen?!"

Sherlock jumped onto the black sofa that lay just in front of the wall that was covered with pictures from past cases. He started to rapidly look all over the wall at all of the pictures.

"I didn't let this happen John, why would anyone let this happen, it just happened. If I would've let this happen I would've just handed Mary straight over to Moriarty."

He jumped down onto the floor.

"This is not the time to get clever with me Sherlock, because I will punch you in the face if I need to."

"Actually, if we want Mary to be found, this is the perfect time to be clever. And, dear me John, this is no time for violence. Now, we have to go out, I just need to change into something more," he looked down at his pyjamas "appropriate."

After Sherlock had changed, he'd come bouncing into the living room with a big smile on his face wearing a silk purple shirt under a black blazer with black trousers and polished, black shoes.

"Sherlock! Are you actually smiling, in a situation like this?"

"Well John, I missed something. Missed something SO obvious that finding Mary would be pointless without this vital tiny piece of information. In fact, permission to call me an idiot. No, in fact, shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking. It was annoying."

"Okay, so what's this 'vital piece of information'?"

"The window, John. Oh dear god, the window!"

Sherlock rushed over to the window, John by his side.

"It's open."

"Yes, exactly John. Moriarty isn't as stupid as this, leaving the window open. He _wants_ us to find him. He's just playing a game and we are the players. He left it open purposely. The window is right next to the playpen, how easy would it be to get the window open, lean over and take Mary. Too easy! I just didn't notice something this obvious because I was too busy worrying about Mary."

"So how does this lead us to Mary?"

"Oh, did I not tell you? I already know where to go, he left a note."

Sherlock went over to his desk and rooted about through the papers. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to John. Sherlock watched as John quickly skimmed the piece of paper.

"So what are we hanging about here for? We need to go now, Sherlock!"

"Mycroft has sent some of his men to perimeter the area, Graham has already offered to help, but we don't need him at the moment. I've told Mycroft not to enter the building. If Moriarty wants us to play his game, we will play it fair. And if _he_ doesn't play fair, that's where Mycroft comes in."

"Fine, we'll play it your way. If this doesn't work Sherlock I swear."

"John, don't be so moronic, when have my plans ever failed?"

"I'm just warning you. So, one question."

"What's that?"

"Who's Graham?"

"Oh, you know him. He's, he's...Oh, his second name is Lestrade!"

"You mean Greg?"

"Yes, that's what I meant."

John and Sherlock had waited about the apartment for a phone call from Mycroft to say that it was okay to go down to Tower Hill.

"This is ridiculous, I'm not waiting any longer. My daughter is in danger and we're sat about waiting for a phone call!" John exclaimed.

"All good comes to those who wait. Mycroft says he got called away for an important meeting, he said it wouldn't take long and I trust him. Well, most of the time, but anyway, we just need to wait, it won't be much longer."

"We don't have time to wait about, Sherlock. This isn't some murder case, this is my daughter we're talking about."

At that moment Sherlock's mobile phone began to ring.

"Answer it!"

"Okay, okay." Sherlock picked up the phone and answered it briskly.

"Hello?"

John stood eagerly waiting to go by the doorway.

"Yes, okay. Mycroft, don't have too many of your men surrounding the building, It might scare him off."

He hung up the phone call and stood up.

"Right, we are allowed to go now."

"Finally."

Sherlock glided over to the door and unhooked his coat and scarf from the back of it. He wrapped the scarf around his neck neatly and smoothly pulled on his coat. As he was walking through the door, he grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled it up. Sherlock and John swiftly walked down the stairs whilst Sherlock buttoned up his coat.

Once outside, Sherlock held out his hand to a passing Taxi and it came to a halt with a screech.

They climbed inside and took a seat each.

"So, why do you thing Moriarty is doing this?" John said inquiringly.

"For revenge, probably."

"Revenge on what?"

"I don't know, faking my death? But then again he faked his death too. Maybe he got bored and decided to play a game. I mean, in reality, that's what normal people do when they get bored, isn't it? Play an game."

"Oh and what's the game? Kidnap the baby?"

"John, this is not the time for sarcasm. We both know you're a witty person, when you want to be. Now is the time to use some of that wit of yours."

"I'm not sure whether to take that as offensive or not."

"Offensive."

"Ah, good to know."

For the rest of the ride they sat in silence.

The Taxi finally stopped and Sherlock climbed out, waiting for John to finish paying the cabbie.

When John did eventually get out of the Taxi, they approached the building with men stood at the door. Mycroft was stood talking to them in a grey suit with a long umbrella in his hand.

Sherlock and John hurriedly walked over to him.

"Mycroft, can we go in?" John said before Sherlock could speak.

Mycroft slowly turned around to face John and Sherlock.

"Ah, it appears not."

"What, you said it was okay to come down here."

"Yes, it was."

"Well what is the problem?" Sherlock demanded.

"It seems that Moriarty is refusing to open the doors until I send the men away."

"What's wrong, is he scared?" John said harshly.

"No, it seems he wants to play this game with Sherlock and Sherlock only."

"But this is my daughter!"

"John, calm down. You know that I will do everything I can to get Mary back. If you interfere you may end up getting hurt."

"Sherlock, she's my daughter, I don't want anyone to think that I haven't tried to keep her safe."

"And they won't. Any good father in this situation would do what they need to do to let their child actually finish this _with_ a father. And in this case, you need to stay away so Mary comes home safely with you."

"Sherlock, promise me you can get her back."

"I won't make promises I can't keep, I'll tell you that. But I'm certain I'll get her back."

"But there isn't an absolute chance that Moriarty will give her back?"

"There never is a absolute chance, John. Just a highly likely chance. But not even Moriarty is this cold-hearted. He just likes to mess around with other people's families because he doesn't have one."

"Okay. But, Mycroft, can't you just get your men to bash down the door?"

"Not if you want to see Mary again. You see, Moriarty has threatened that if we try anything, John will never see Mary again."

"Mycroft, send your men away. John, you need to go home."

"But Sherlock.."

"Go home."

Sherlock watched as Mycroft ordered his men away and got in the black car with John and drove off.

He turned back around to the building.

"Come on then, Moriarty! Open the doors, Let's begin this game!" Sherlock shouted.

Sherlock edged towards the door, grabbing a hold of one of the door knobs. He twisted it eagerly and opened it with a creak. There were some stairs leading up to the roof. Sherlock rushed over to them and began to walk up them. When he reached the top, he pushed open the exit door and walked out into the open air of the roof. Moriarty was stood, staring at his shoes with his hands in his pockets dressed in a black suit with a long, black, unbuttoned coat on. He raised his head to look at Sherlock.

"Ah, Sherlock. You're finally here. It's been so long since we last seen each other. I thought what better is there to meet up with an old friend than to continue at the last place we saw each other. Are you ready to play yet?"

"Game on" Sherlock replied.


End file.
